Chapter One: Tommy and Chuckie

Chandler Peters observed all of the teenagers surrounding her, greeting each other after the long two weeks of winter break.

Frankly, Chandler couldn’t have been more unhappy.

Insects, that’s what all of these people were. Annoying and begging to be squished.

Not that Chandler ever wanted to kill bugs. But she sure felt like it sometimes.

Two factors were the reasons why Chandler was unhappy today. One, her wild, unruly hair was even more out of control than usual, sticking up in almost an afro. Second… forget the second reason.

The real second reason was that she had just spotted Chuck and Tommy, leaning next to each other on the wall, chatting away while holding hands.

Chandler wasn’t a homophobe in the least. In fact, Tommy was her older brother, and Chuck was her best friend.

The problem was that Chuck also happened to be the guy that Chandler had had a crush on for the past two years.

It wasn’t completely hopeless, Chandler liked to remind herself. While Tommy was as gay as could be, Chuck was merely bisexual. He had been known as quite the lady’s man actually, until one day it was announced that Tommy and Chuck were the new hot item.

Chandler had never known before then how you could be so happy and so jealous and hateful at the exact same time. It wasn’t the best feeling to have. She had taken it all in passing, acting as if she had known they were meant to be all along.

Of course, the real truth was that the day before all of this had started, Chandler was almost sure Chuck was going to ask her out. Obviously, that didn’t turn out to be the case.

When she had seen them walk up to her with their hands intertwined, she had been shocked, to say the least. But she had just smiled, letting the news wash over her. She had even given them a nickname: Tommy and Chuckie. The only problem was that this Tommy was African-American, and Chuck had brown hair instead of red. It was curly, though. And he did wear glasses when he didn’t have his contacts in.

Their relationship never ceased to bother her, though. She felt like the third wheel in the threesome they had always had, and obviously they didn’t include her in everything they did. They were her only true friends, but they were seniors and she was a junior. This was supposed to be their fun-filled last year together, but instead she was just depressed.

And the only thing more disgusting than listening to girls gush about how cute of a couple Tommy and Chuck were was having a repeated epiphany that Chandler and her brother both wanted to make out with the same person.

Talk about creepy.

Chandler shut her locker loudly, only then realizing that she had attracted the attention of Chuck and Tommy. They walked over to her, with grins on their faces that should have been illegal this early in the morning.

“Hey, Chandler,” Chuck said, ruffling Chandler’s hair much to her dismay. Now it probably looked even worse.

“You did that just because you saw my hair of doom,” Chandler said with a glare, turning around and beginning to walk away from them.

“It’s not that bad,” Tommy assured her. “It’s just not performing at its highest potential.”

“You sound like a guidance counselor trying to cushion the blow of telling a kid he’s stupid and will never amount to anything,” Chandler muttered.

“That’s exactly what my guidance counselor did say. I guess she prefers to be blunt.” Chuck shrugged, and Chandler laughed incredulously.

“You’re a liar. I’ve seen your report card.”

Chuck gave her a solemn look. “They’re not my real report cards. I faked them, so you guys wouldn’t think any worse of me.”

Chandler slapped him in the arm. “Just stop talking.” The warning bell rang then, and Tommy waved at them.

“I have Calculus first period, so I’ll see you guys later,” he said, retreating down the other end of the hall. Chandler shrugged and continued on her way to Spanish class.

“Hey, slow down!” Chuck exclaimed, catching up to her. She looked back at him lazily. He draped an arm across her shoulder. “Happy to be back?”

“Not really. Being a junior is the equivalent of being in hell. You wouldn’t know, since you’re such a happy little senior,” Chandler said with an abnormally high voice, clapping her hands together.

“It is nice,” Chuck said giddily. “But being a junior wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re a vampire, you don’t sleep. That’s how you got everything done and still managed to pester me,” Chandler replied, crossing her arms.

“I always make time to pester you,” Chuck said as if it were obvious. “Even if it means not getting any sleep at all.”

“Of course,” she said, matching his tone. “Always.”

“You’re just so cute and I can’t find myself to not annoy you,” Chuck said. “It’d be a crime if I didn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah. With this gravity-defying hair, I don’t think I could be described as ‘cute’,” Chandler said, already wincing at the idea at what her hair had become since the last time she looked in the mirror.

“You are way too self-conscious. You have to learn to just go with the flow. Nobody cares about how you look.” Chandler gave him a sardonic look at this comment.

“Says the boy who dragged Tommy and I to twenty stores looking for the perfectly faded jeans. That was almost as bad as when Tommy took my mom and I shopping for his first pair of skinny jeans.” She frowned at the memory, shivering. That had not been a fun day. The second Tommy had realized skinny jeans were in style, he had had to stock up. They were easy to find at least, considering they had been the rage then. Chandler, who enjoyed lagging behind on accepting all of the fashions, only really began to like the idea of skinny jeans by the time they had become a rare thing to see in stores. Luckily, Tommy had old ones that he let her wear.

Another crazy factor in her life was that she actually got used clothes from her older brother. And they fit her. It was slightly weird, but also very convenient. It saved Chandler from the dread of shopping.

“I really don’t feel like going to Photography. It’s so difficult,” he said with a huge yawn, stretching his arms though one was still draped around Chandler.

She sniffed in annoyance, knowing what he was getting at. “Your comments. They hurt.”

“Hey, I took two AP classes last year,” Chuck said, holding up two fingers. “How many are you taking?”

She paused, grabbing his fingers. “None.”

He frowned, yanking his hand from her grip and putting it to his ear. “What was that?” he asked.

“You are smarter than me, you little pea of a man,” she hissed, just as the actual bell rang. Shit. “I have to go, slut.”

“Bye, whore,” he said, and she laughed, waving at him before turning around to walk down the crowded hall and towards her classroom.

“Late again, Miss Peters,” said an annoyed Mrs. Yin, looking over her glasses at Chandler. The weird thing about her teacher was that she taught Spanish, she had an Asian last name, and she was black.

Things were so different in the 21st century.

“I was talking to Chuck, I was on my way, though,” Chandler said, sitting down in her seat.

“How is Chuck doing?” Mrs. Yin asked, instantly beaming.

“He’s really good,” Chandler said happily. Okay, it wasn’t true happiness, but she had to give herself points for terrific acting. She should have joined theatre as a lonely freshmen.

Well, no. They wouldn’t have been able to handle her talent.

While Mrs. Yin blabbed on about the third quarter project, Chandler tried to figure out a way to go to sleep while still creating the illusion of being awake. So far, she was failing.

She vaguely heard the teacher say to pair up with a partner, but Chandler didn’t bother trying to find someone. Being popular by association, she didn’t really have to do much to get noticed around the school. Also, the task at hand was really taking up all of her time.

Sure enough, she heard someone sit in the now vacated seat in front of her, and she lifted her head, trying to clear her vision as quickly as possible. She was going to greet him, but a yawn interrupted her.

“Partners?” David asked.

“What’s the project?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“We have to design an outfit of clothing and one of us has to model it while the other explains the outfit in Spanish,” he replied, opening his book.

“Paying attention? I’m proud,” she said. “I think we should have a rainbow shirt. You can do the rest.”

“Do you want to model?” he asked.

“I’m sure as hell not speaking Spanish,” Chandler replied, shuddering at the idea of trying to come up with a Spanish accent.

David laughed. “I remember that day when she tried to teach us to roll our R’s. You were pretty bad.”

“That was a terrible day.” Chandler groaned, letting her head fall back on the desk.

David nudged her elbow. “Come on, we just have today and tomorrow to do this.”

Reluctantly, she sat up straight again, though after a second she began to slouch. “Alright, let’s do it.”

Chandler had lost her virginity to David at the end of their sophomore year during Chuck’s annual end-of-school party. Chandler only trusted herself to get drunk when Chuck and Tommy were around, so she had had a clear head with David. That was what she was most grateful for. Afterwards they had ordered ‘Superstar’ on Pay-per-view, watching it together and overall having a blast. It was safe to say that Chandler never regretted that night.

Of course, they had been just friends. Practically acquaintances. She only knew him because he was such close friends with Chuck and Tommy and he was the school’s playboy. They only talked in passing these days, though she supposed they did have some sort of connection. They had seen each other naked, after all.

“I think we should have a newsboy cap,” David said. “You can choose the color.”

Chandler nodded. “And skinny jeans. How do you say that in Spanish?”

David shrugged. “You’re asking me why? I may know how to roll my R’s, but I can’t remember words worth shit.”

“Thank you, you’re a great partner,” Chandler said in a deadpan. “I’ll just write the paragraph and gather the clothes, and you can focus on memorizing it.”

“But then I’ll feel guilty for not helping.“ David frowned, picking up Chandler’s feather pen and doodling on her notebook.

She snatched it from him. “That’s the point. You’d just butcher everything.”

David held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine.”

She grinned with victory. “Thanks, you’re a doll.”

“Mmhm,” David muttered, copying her smile.

When the bell rang, Chandler emerged to make her way to study hall. “Hey, Chan,” said a bright, bubbly voice, and Chandler froze.

“Hey, Tiffany,” she said, her voice lacking any enthusiasm what-so-ever.

“How was your winter vacation? Mine was absolutely spiffy,” she said.

“Fine.“ Chandler watched her as they made their way to study hall, waiting for the inevitable.

“So, how’s Chuck?” Tiffany asked, her blue eyes boring into Chandler’s brown ones.

“He’s absolutely fantastic,” Chandler said, opening the door and walking to her seat in study hall, glancing at her watch. Two minutes until the bell rang. Damn.

Sure enough, Tiffany sat down next to her. “Is he still happy with… um, Timmy?”

“Tommy,” Chandler corrected. Somehow, she was just too much of a nice person to be mean to Tiffany, even if she was a lunatic. She was a cross between a skank and a seven-year-old. It was an extremely creepy combination. “They’re absolutely fantastic as well. Fabulous, even.” Nonsense was tumbling out of her mouth, but she didn’t care about Tiffany enough to stop it.

“That’s nice,” Tiffany said. “Listen, I was thinking maybe we could hang out this weekend? Go see a movie? Cloverfield’s opening soon.”

“Sounds great,” Chandler said, opening her Spanish book.

Tiffany nodded, playing with a chain hanging off of her Prada bag. “What’s wrong with your hair today?”

Chandler slammed her book down. “It’s not mixing well with the air, okay? I blame this stupid state.”

“Maine is a bit of a bore.” Tiffany sighed longingly, before her face brightened again. “That’s why I’m going to NYU next year.”

Chandler gave her a thumbs-up, hoping her disinterest would get rid of Tiffany. It didn’t, but at least the bell rang. Tiffany shot out of her seat, running across the room.

Chuck immediately took up her seat, raising his eyebrows at Chandler. “She’s a bundle of energy, isn’t she?” he asked, looking past Chandler at the retreating Tiffany.

“She must have been a fireball in the bedroom,” Chandler muttered.

“Not necessarily a bad thing,” Chuck said, and Chandler couldn’t help but look up to witness his teasing smile. She immediately looked back at her Spanish book.

“Just a typical boy, aren’t you?” she muttered, realizing she was on a page in the book they hadn’t even covered yet.

“It’s something you’re just born with. If you were male, you’d understand.” She didn’t look up, but she knew he was smirking.

“What a shame,” Chandler muttered, trying to focus on her homework and ignore the gorgeous boy talking to her.

“I don’t think it’s a shame. I like you much better as a girl,” Chuck said, leaning on the edge of the desk. She could feel his stare.

She smiled, finally looking up as she pinched his cheek. “Aw, thank you.”

“Hey, yo!” yelled the teacher across the room at them. “The bell rang. Is that your seat, Chuck?”

Chuck frowned, looking down and then back up at the teacher. “I’m suffering Alzheimer’s. I apologize.”

The teacher smirked. “Go back to your seat.”

“Goes to show whose side you’re on,” Chuck yelled at her, getting up and walking over to his assigned seat.

Against her will, Chandler watched him go. She tried to ignore the way his jeans bagged so perfectly yet were almost slim against his legs, and the way his AC/DC shirt clung to his body. And his short curly hair…

Spanish or gorgeous boys?

Chandler huffed to herself. Whatever happened to the best of both?

AUTHOR NOTE: Ugh, I edited this chapter three times and it still doesn’t feel quite right. Oh well, at least I know my spelling and grammar is tip-top.